


let me steal this moment from you now

by Shadowcrawler



Series: Femslash February 2017 [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, F/F, Femslash February, Gen, References to Warehouse 13
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-02-01
Packaged: 2018-09-21 09:38:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9541835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowcrawler/pseuds/Shadowcrawler
Summary: Warehouse 13 AU. Jemma's never been on a real mission before, and this one doesn't go quite how she expects.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be short oh my god. I guess I miss Warehouse so much that the story just kept...happening. I think you can read it if you haven't seen the show, but there are a ton of references to it. The only thing that I don't really explain is the powers some Agents have - which the show didn't really explain either, so. Bobbi has "vibes" that are basically a strong feeling that she needs to do or respond to something, and she can ignore them but it's unwise (it's like a sixth sense/precognition). Feel free to ask for clarification in the comments if you're confused about anything. This is total id-fic, sorry.
> 
> Oh, two quick things: 1) my ace!gay!Fitz and Bobbi/Kara agendas continue quietly in the background, because it's me. 2) I'm using Skye instead of Daisy because she's been on her own and there is no reason for her to know the name Daisy. I might transition into her using Daisy if I continue this as a series, though.

“All agents report to my office for a meeting!”

Jemma glances up at the loudspeaker, face breaking into a wide smile. “Fitz, c’mon, something’s happening!” They’ve been at work doing inventory in section F all day, and she’s getting tired of kneeling. You’d think even a top-secret international organization could spring for some stools for their employees.

“Do we have to?” grumbles Fitz. “It’s not like it actually applies to us. Coulson always sends the actual field agents out, we’re just cataloguers.”

“ _ So far _ ,” says Jemma. “But don’t you remember, he sent Mack and Elena to Boston yesterday and they’re not back yet. It’s just us, Kara, and Bobbi here now, and Kara’s ankle is still broken. He  _ has  _ to send one of us! Our first mission, Fitz!”

“Yours,” mutters Fitz.

She frowns at him. “Now how do you know he won’t ask you?”

“Because if he did, I would say, respectfully, sir, I’d much rather stay here and work on the catalogue, and that he should send you. You’re the one who actually  _ wants _ to become a field agent. It’s far too exciting for me.”

“Oh,  _ Fitz, _ ” says Jemma affectionately, and then jumps to her feet, offering him a hand up. “C’mon, don’t you want to hear about what’s going on, even a little?”

He sighs and takes her hand, letting her pull him up. “Fine. Let’s go.”

They race over to Coulson’s office, where Bobbi and Kara are already inside and Coulson’s seated at his desk. “Oh good, I’m glad you both are here,” he says with a warm smile. “Just in time.”

“Hey, nice to see you out of the archives,” says Bobbi with a friendly wave. She and Kara are on Coulson’s couch, her arm around Kara’s shoulders. Kara’s ankle is propped up, still in its cast since it’s only been two weeks since the accident. Kara’s more reserved than Bobbi, but today she gives Jemma a nod hello.

“Hello, everyone,” says Jemma, smiling nervously at Coulson and hoping she looks and sounds like someone responsible enough to go on her first field mission.

“Now, there’s been a string of bank robberies around the Brooklyn area of New York. That’s not that unusual, but what brought it to my attention is the police reports.” Coulson pulls up a news coverage video of a woman reporting “multiple witnesses confirmed seeing the incident happen, but each of them have been giving a different story about what the perpetrator looked like. Statements include descriptions of a red-bearded Caucasian man with glasses and a pale-skinned brunette woman wearing a vest. With so many conflicting stories, no one’s sure what to believe, but what we do know is that it’s likely these crimes were connected. Viewers with any inside information are encouraged to alert local authorities.”

“Sounds like an artifact to me,” Bobbi says. “I’m guessing you’ve got an idea of what it is?”

“Possibly.” Coulson nods and pulls up a graphic. “Princess Diana frequently wore this tiara in public, so much that it developed the power to change the wearer’s appearance to onlookers. But if worn for too long, the effects become permanent and the wearer will no longer have a defined facial identity. Hopefully we can get to it before that happens. I’m sending two agents to investigate and hopefully intercept before another incident occurs.”

Kara coughs. “Sir, I’m not exactly field-ready at the moment.”

“I’m aware of that, Kara. Don’t worry, you’ll be sitting this one out.” Coulson turns to Jemma and Fitz. “Jemma, I know you’ve been wanting to work in the field for a while now. How would you like to take this?”

Jemma’s face lights up. “Sir, I…I’d be delighted!” Beside her, Fitz can’t help but look relieved.

“Cool. Baby’s first artifact hunt.” Bobbi’s grinning.

“I’ll have everything arranged in two hours. Pack for four days – hopefully it won’t take that much time, but better safe than sorry.” Coulson nods his dismissal.

Jemma practically bounces out of the office. “I’m going, Fitz! I’ve got a mission!”

“Told you,” says Fitz, but he’s smiling too. “You’ll be great.”

\--- 

Bobbi gives Jemma a rundown of what to expect while they’re on the plane. “Keep your head up, observe as much as you can, and ask questions, but try not to seem suspicious. People like talking about weird stuff they’ve seen, but you have to kind of be nonchalant about it. Get them to feel like they’re talking to an old friend when they talk to you. But also don’t lose sight of the mission. You’re there to figure out exactly what happened, don't forget that.”

Jemma’s head is spinning a bit by the time the plane lands, but she’s so excited she quickly gets over it.

Their first stop is at the most recent site of a robbery, Municipal Credit Union. “If you want, I can do most of the talking for this one,” Bobbi says. “So you get a feel for how this goes.” Jemma nods, eyes wide.

The teller on duty at the time is a sweet-faced young woman with big eyes whose nametag says Gwen, and who is all too happy to talk to alleged FBI agents. “It all happened so quickly, I’m not sure what I can say,” she says, almost apologetically. “Someone came up to the window and they were…I guess they were wearing a trenchcoat? And they showed me they had a gun and passed a bag through the slot, and I just filled it.”

“Can you give me a description of what this person looked like?” Bobbi asks.

Gwen blinks. “I…I thought I could, but then I heard everyone else talking and…well, what I saw was a tall woman with curly dark hair and a blue button-up. But that’s not what the other witnesses said they saw. I don’t know, I didn’t get a lot of sleep the night before that happened, maybe I got some details wrong?” She shakes her head.

“Well, thank you.” Bobbi smiles at her. “Is there anything else you can tell us?”

“Um, I think she might’ve had a sparkly hairband or something? I remember noticing something on her head that sparkled.”

“Thank you.” Bobbi shakes Gwen’s hand and they leave.

“Now that,” Bobbi comments, “was an easy interview. They won’t always be, especially with some of the most dangerous artifacts. Now, where do you think we should go next?” She asks this in just a hint of teacher tone, as if she wants to see how well Jemma will perform.

Jemma swallows nervously and thinks for a minute. “Well…we might get the serial numbers of some of the bills and see whether they've changed hands in the last forty eight hours?”

Smiling, Bobbi nods. “That's what I was thinking.”

After sending the numbers to the Warehouse for tracking, Bobbi and Jemma head to another recently robbed bank, where they get a similar story from the teller: a completely different description of the perp. This time, it was of a heavyset older man with curly grey hair and bushy eyebrows.

They’re having an early dinner when Bobbi’s Farnsworth buzzes. “Got a match on some of the bills,” Coulson reports. “They were used at a Trader Joe’s on Court Street. Mostly buying canned goods and nonperishables, weirdly.” He shrugs. “Anyway, we’ll keep looking for the others and update you if we find something.”

“Thanks.” Bobbi closes it and takes another bite of her shrimp scampi. “We better finish up here and go check it out.”

Jemma furrows her brow. “What a strange place to use stolen money.”

“Is it? Might’ve been a Jean Valjean situation.” Bobbi chuckles at her own joke.

“Maybe,” murmurs Jemma, distracted by her own questions.

The Trader Joe’s clerk is far less helpful than their first two interviewees, shrugging off their questions and looking sullen. But his coworker shyly suggests that they try the food bank a few blocks down and over. “The people who bought all that stuff, they come in periodically and buy in bulk. I figure they must be from a food bank or shelter or something, and that’s the closest one.”

“Thank you,” says Jemma with a smile.

At the Food Bank for NYC, they hit another dead end. “We found the money in several envelopes shoved into the mailbox,” says the staff member they talk to. “It was a real blessing and we just didn’t think to question it.”

“Makes sense,” Bobbi says with a nod. “Thanks for your cooperation. Next time, you should report large suspicious bundles of cash to the proper authorities.” It doesn’t matter that they technically  _ aren’t _ the proper authorities, at least where recovering stolen money is concerned. 

They’re about to work on hailing a cab for the hotel, since they’re both tired and out of ideas for the moment, when they spot a busker on the nearest street corner. She’s playing a violin, with the case open on the ground for donations. The case that is currently full of wads of bills.

Bobbi tilts her head. “Well,  _ that’s _ weird.”

“Excuse me,” Jemma asks the busker, somewhat timidly, “where did you get all that cash from?”

The woman stops playing and looks warily at them. “I didn’t steal it or nothin’,” she says. “This girl who was walking by stopped and listened for a few minutes, then she pulled a bunch of bills out of her purse and threw them in there. I didn’t ask questions.”

“Do you remember what she looked like? Could you describe her?”

“Are you cops?” the woman asks, glaring. “Like I said, I didn’t steal it. I come here three times a week and it’s perfectly legal.”

Jemma squeaks, intimidated. “Ah-”

“You’re not in trouble,” Bobbi says, stepping in front of Jemma just slightly. “And we’re not cops. We just need to find that girl, she’s in danger.”

The woman doesn’t look thrilled, but she replies, “She was a little taller than you,” nodding at Jemma, “wearing a black hoodie. Kind of tan? Long dark hair. She might’ve been Mexican or Asian or something, I dunno. She had a tiara or something on too.”

“Right, that’s very helpful, thank you.” Jemma smiles awkwardly and then adds, “Er, best of luck!” before darting away. Bobbi chuckles and follows her. 

Once they’re out of earshot, Jemma asks, “Do you think that woman even saw this person’s real face? They might have been using the tiara.”

“Even if she didn’t, it’s the only clue we have for now.” 

Jemma’s quiet a moment. “Maybe...maybe we need to see if they’ve given money to anyone else on the street,” she says finally. “Whoever they are, they don’t seem to be terribly concerned with keeping the money for themselves.”

“It’s definitely worth checking out,” Bobbi says. “But it’s gonna get dark soon, we shouldn’t spend too long out here.”

“But if we leave now we might lose the trail entirely,” insists Jemma. “Just a little bit more?” She sounds a bit like a bratty child, but she can’t help it. The idea of leaving now, when they’re so  _ close _ , is unbearable.

Bobbi chuckles. “Alright, we’ll look for half an hour.”

The next person they find is a ragged man eating McDonald’s in the doorway of a closed office building, a skinny hound lying next to him. “This is sort of a weird question,” Bobbi says, “but have you seen a woman in a black hoodie with long dark hair go by? Did she give you some money?”

The man grunts. “What’s it to you, lady?” He offers a fry to the dog, who takes it.

“We’re looking for her. She may be in danger.”

“Whatever.” The man continues to eat and ignores them.

Luckily, the next few people they meet are much more helpful, and to their surprise they catch up with the Robin Hood within a few blocks. It’s unmistakably them, dark hood pulled up and long hair cascading out from under it. Bobbi pulls Jemma around the corner so they can watch the person - it  _ is _ a girl, after all - hand a stack of bills to yet another person sitting on the street. “We’ve got her!” Bobbi says. “Now we should tail her until she-”

But Jemma is already stepping out, Tesla in hand. “Stop!” she calls. “We just want to talk to you!”

Of course, when the girl sees what looks like a gun in Jemma’s hand, she bolts. 

“Shit,” mutters Bobbi, giving chase. The girl is fast, and good at dodging crowds, but Bobbi’s former Secret Service and she’s pushing the girl against a building in no time, barking, “Who are you? Who are you working for?”

“I’m not telling you!” the girl snaps, squirming to get away. “Fuck off, pigs!”

“We’re not cops!” Jemma corrects as she runs up, panting. “We just want to know where you got the artifact!”

The girl stiffens and stops struggling. “Artifact? What?”

“The tiara,” grunts Bobbi. “The one you used to rob the bank.”

The girl laughs. “Like I’d tell you!”

“What if I told you that if you keep using it, there’ll be dire consequences?” Bobbi asks sternly. 

“Look, I don’t know who you bozos are and I don’t really care. I just found this somewhere, okay? In a...private...location...and I thought it was pretty and I put it on and then I looked in the mirror and realized I could look like anybody, so I decided to put it to good use!” The girl’s speaking directly to Jemma, which might be because Bobbi has her face pressed to the wall, but Jemma is also finding it difficult to look away. “I hacked into the bank’s security cameras and disabled them during the heist so nobody would be able to see that footage. I’m not planning on keeping any of the money. I’m giving it all to food banks and charities and people on the street. Look, you can’t tell me if you found a magic face-changing tiara you wouldn’t use it for something good like this!” She gives Jemma a sort of pleading look, which Jemma is loathe to admit works just a little bit on her.

But Jemma can’t admit that, so she scowls instead. “I most certainly  _ would not _ ! Stealing is stealing, even if you don’t use the money for selfish reasons!”

Bobbi chuckles and says to the girl, “Before we get into an ethical debate, lemme just point out a few things. It’s getting dark out, you definitely can’t outrun me or beat me in a fight, and judging by the whiff I got, you’ve been on the move for a few days and haven’t had time to shower. What if we take you back to our hotel room and we can just talk about the damn tiara? It’s not even about the money, I don’t care what you do with that.”

The girl seems to consider this. “What if I say no?”

“We’re taking the tiara either way,” replies Bobbi. “If you cooperate then you get a shower, hot meal, probably a nice bed to sleep in, and we can protect you. You don’t, you lose the tiara  _ and _ I won’t hesitate to tip off the cops about your location.”

Grunting, the girl rolls her eyes. “ _ Fine _ . I’ll cooperate, I guess.” She relaxes and Bobbi pulls the tiara off her head, then steps back to let her unflatten herself. The girl brushes off her front, then looks warily at them. “So if you’re not cops, then what  _ are _ you? And why do you care so much about this stupid tiara?”

Bobbi hands the tiara to Jemma, who drops it into a neutralizer bag (neither of them misses how the girl’s eyes widen slightly at the purple  _ zap _ when the tiara lands inside). Then Bobbi replies, “Because if I hadn’t taken it away from you, you would’ve eventually lost your face.”

To try to temper the girl’s horrified expression, Jemma chirps, “While you were wearing it, did you ever smell something that could best be described as fudge when there was no fudge?”

\---

Once they get back to the hotel, Bobbi orders room service for all of them and offers the girl (who begrudgingly introduced herself as Skye) first shower. “Take as long as you need,” she says. “We both packed for a few days, so we have spare clothes if you need or want them for the night.”

“Thanks,” Skye calls, accidentally slamming the bathroom door in her excitement.

Bobbi turns to Jemma when the water’s running. “So,” she says, “I had a vibe.”

“A vibe?” Jemma raises her eyebrow. She doesn’t entirely understand Bobbi’s vibes from a logical or scientific standpoint, any more than Trip’s aura-reading or Kara’s ability to tell when people are lying, but it’s one of those things she just accepts. “About what?”

“Her,” Bobbi says, nodding at the closed bathroom door. “When I saw her.”

“Oh.” Jemma frowns. “Are you sure it’s not just because she was the thief?”

“No, it didn’t feel like that. More like...it felt like asking her to come back with us was the right idea. Like maybe she’s supposed to be part of the team.”

“Come  _ back _ with us?” Jemma asks, shocked. “Really?”

“I think she could be a good agent,” Bobbi says, nodding. “She’s clever, she seems like a pretty good hacker, and we need someone who knows computers. Plus, she seems like the kind of person who won’t mind some of the less-than-legal stuff we have to do sometimes. I dunno, I just trust the vibe, Jem.”

Jemma tilts her head, thinking about this. “We don’t really  _ know _ anything about her,” she says, finally. “How do we know she’s not secretly working for an opposing organization? Maybe she already knows all about the Warehouse and she’s just a good actress.”

Bobbi shrugs. “So we keep a close eye on her and we don’t let her do much top-secret stuff for awhile. Trip can read her aura. I just  _ really _ think she’s supposed to be an agent.”

Unsure of how to respond, Jemma just nods. “I suppose we can ask Coulson,” she says hesitantly.

“He trusts the vibes,” Bobbi says, smirking. 

\---

“Okay, so lemme get this straight,” says Skye. “You guys work for a secret government organization that recovers and catalogues magical artifacts from history, and I  _ accidentally _ stole Princess Di’s tiara, which is super powerful and can change my face so much it might erase it if I use it too much?”

Bobbi nods. “That’s about it, yeah.”

“Oh my god.” Skye gets up from where she’s seated on the couch and walks over to flop on one of the queen-size beds - it was the one Jemma was going to take, but Jemma bites her tongue. She also doesn’t say anything about how maybe Skye shouldn’t be sprawled out on the bed while all she’s wearing is a hotel bathrobe that doesn’t exactly offer the best coverage. (She  _ definitely _ doesn’t say anything about how Skye has really nice legs.)

“And you have a magic taser that you can zap me with to erase my memory,” Skye adds, while staring up at the ceiling. “Why didn’t you do that earlier?”

“For one, you’re a way more interesting class of criminal than we usually run into,” admits Bobbi. “The Robin Hood thing? Really tugs at the heartstrings.”

Skye snorts. “Oh, you want heartstrings? I’ve lived in a van for the last two years. I grew up in an orphanage and I never knew my parents at all. I’ve got some great sob stories for you.” 

Jemma frowns. “I’m sorry,” she says, and she means it.

“Whatever,” says Skye, shaking her head. “So are you gonna call your boss, that Coulson guy?”

“Actually,” says Bobbi, glancing at Jemma, “we wanted to offer you a job.”

“ _ What? _ ” Skye sits up and something like panic flashes across her face. “What the hell could you possibly want  _ me _ for?”

“You’re good with computers, right?” Bobbi asks, and when Skye just nods she adds, “Our boss is okay with computers, we have some other people that are okay, but we could honestly use someone with your skills. Some of the stuff we do...it’s not in the strictest sense  _ legal _ , but it needs to be done to keep the world safe. I’m guessing you wouldn’t have an objection to that?”

Skye tilts her head. “Not really, no. I mean, it kinda sounds fun. And it’s not like I have much tying me down here. You’ve been pretty quiet,” she says, turning to Jemma. “What do you think about all this, Hermione?”

Jemma makes an embarrassing surprised noise. “Who, me?”

“Yeah. You’re totally like Hermione, you’re smart and British and you like rules and stuff.” Grinning at her, Skye asks again, “What  _ do _ you think?”

A bit taken aback, Jemma stammers, “Well...well...I think if Bobbi wants you to join us, and if Coulson thinks it’s best, then...then I’m fine with it.” She swallows and gives Skye a wobbly smile. “I’m still, ah, still learning.”

“It’s cute,” Skye says, which makes Jemma flush. “So, what, you gotta call this Coulson guy, right? Are you gonna ask him if you can bring home the stray?”

Bobbi laughs. “Something like that, yeah.” She grabs the Farnsworth and calls Coulson, who seems a bit surprised to be hearing from her this late (it’s two hours earlier there, so about eight).

“You found it  _ already? _ I guess I’ll have to change the flights. I really thought it would take you longer, good work.”

“Yeah, we got it,” Bobbi says. “And there’s something else we have to talk to you about…” She moves the Farnsworth so Coulson can see Skye and Jemma. Skye leans into Jemma to see into the camera, which Jemma wasn’t at all prepared for and she freezes. Then, unsure of how to greet Coulson, she says, “Hello, sir,” while Skye flashes a peace sign.

Coulson furrows his brow. “Did you meet up with a friend in New York?”

“Not exactly. Um, so this is Skye, and she’s the one who had the tiara and stole the money-”

“What? Why haven’t you reported her to the authorities?”

“Wait, hear me out. She apparently got the tiara kind of by accident and was doing some Robin Hood shit with the money. She’s a hacker, Coulson. She’s good with computers and tech. You know we need someone else who actually knows how computers that are newer than from the nineties work.”

“I know how to use computers,” says Coulson, sounding a little hurt. 

“Look, sir, I think she could be a real asset to the Warehouse. She’s got skills, and she’s smart. I have a good feeling about her.” 

Skye leans in. “Hey! I’m totally up for this batshit magic artifacts hunt. I have references! Well...okay, maybe that’s an exaggeration, but I can get you references if you want them or whatever. I’ve totally hacked into a ton of secure databases, nobody’s ever caught me.”

Coulson’s still frowning, but he says, “So we’ll need three tickets home, then?”

\---

Skye snarks her way through the plane ride home, and when they arrive back at Trip’s B&B Trip and Lola, the Warehouse dog, are there to greet them. “Oh my god, hi there!” Skye says, kneeling down to scratch Lola’s chin. She’s smiling so big that it’s almost like the dog made her forget to act cool, which Jemma finds weirdly endearing. Then Lola starts trying to lick Skye’s face and Skye yelps and has to stand up quickly, laughing, and Jemma’s heart does something weird. Hopefully it doesn’t show on her face, but nobody’s really paying attention to her anyway. Kara’s carefully making her way out to give Bobbi a kiss hello, and Coulson is just coming out of the B&B.

“That’s Lola,” Trip says, “and I’m Trip. Coulson said you’d be joining us for a little while. Got a room all ready for you.” 

“Thanks,” Skye replies, seeming almost shy. Then she adds, more confidently, “I’m Skye. I guess I’m here to learn about agenting and stuff.” 

Trip smiles. “Glad to have you, Skye. C’mon in, you can put your stuff away.”

Skye laughs in a self-depreciating way. “Yeah, here it is,” she says, nodding to her tiny duffel bag that looks like it’s seen much better days. They head inside and she adds, “So where’d she come from?” pointing at Lola, who is trotting alongside her happily nuzzling at Skye’s hand.

“We needed to access her memories to solve a case,” explains Coulson nonchalantly. “And then we didn’t have the heart to turn her away.”

Fitz waves at them from the table, where he’s apparently having a late breakfast. “Skye, isn’t it?” he asks.

“Yeah, hi.” Skye nods at him and he nods back.

“Fitz.”

“Oh, Jemma mentioned you, kinda,” Skye says, grinning. “She was chattering about how it was her first mission and how you told her she’d be good at it but she still wasn’t sure. It was cute.” Jemma’s eyes go wide and Skye adds, “Then she told a story about how you guys accidentally got yourselves and Lola covered in goo.”

Fitz groans. “I thought we agreed never to mention that again,” he sighs to Jemma.

Jemma flushes and replies, “She asked if I had any good stories about working here, so I told her!”

“Sorry,” Skye says with a charming smile. “I didn’t realize it was a secret. It was a good story, though.” She beams at Jemma and Jemma’s sure whatever expression she makes back is deeply embarrassing.

“Sure,” mutters Fitz, rolling his eyes. “Anyway, hope you like it here, Skye.”

“Me too,” says Skye. “It seems pretty cool so far.” Then she and the others head upstairs. 

Jemma opts to stay with Fitz - after all, Skye probably doesn’t want everyone breathing down her neck while she unpacks - and she regrets it when he looks at her with a raised eyebrow. “You like her,” he says matter-of-factly.

“I-I like her as much as I like any of you!” retorts Jemma, feeling her cheeks get hotter. “Which is a perfectly normal amount to like someone!”

“Uh huh.” Fitz smirks. “If you say so.” Then he asks, “So I’m guessing it went well?”

Jemma nods, still flustered. “I interviewed several people, and I helped Bobbi tail her until we caught up with her. I think it was a very successful first mission.”

“Well, good.” Fitz pauses and then adds, more kindly, “I told you you’d be good at it. Just don’t get so big and important you forget all about Lola and me in the archives, hm?”

“I could never,” says Jemma, and she wants to hug him but he hates hugs, so she just pats him on the arm fondly instead. 

It’s a nice moment, until he says, eyes gleaming, “And good luck with Skye. If she knows what’s good for her, she’ll stick around and ask you out.”

“ _ Fitz! _ ” hisses Jemma, but just then Skye and the others come back downstairs and she quickly pretends she wasn’t berating him. “Hello!” she chirps to Skye. “How, ah, how are you liking it so far?”

Skye shrugs. “It’s nice, I guess. Nicer than my van. I might have to turn on a cop show or something in the background, sleeping without hearing sirens and yelling might be tough. I’m kidding!” she laughs, grinning at Jemma’s appalled expression. “It wasn’t that bad. There were only sirens sometimes.”

“It’s usually pretty quiet out here, but lemme know if you need a noise machine or anything,” Trip chimes in. “I’m sure I can wrangle something.”

That makes Skye blink, like maybe she wasn’t expecting anyone to take her joke seriously. “Well, thanks,” she says with a smile that’s almost shy. “I’ll let you know.”

Then Coulson piles them into his car for Skye’s first visit to the Warehouse. During the drive, Jemma fiddles with her hair, a nervous tic she’s never managed to get rid of. The Warehouse is like her second home now, and the thought of Skye not liking it makes her stomach feel tight. Maybe Skye will walk in and be too overwhelmed and run back out again. Maybe Skye will find it boring, or too dangerous, or not like all the rules, and she’ll leave, and suddenly Jemma can’t bear the idea of it.

When they’re finally standing in front of the Warehouse, she shyly glances over at Skye. “This is it,” she says, giving her a wobbly smile. 

Skye’s looking up at the Warehouse, her mouth open just slightly. “It’s  _ huge! _ ” she says. “How do you guys not get lost in there?”

“Well, we generally don’t go in alone, since sometimes the Warehouse can have...a mind of its own.” Jemma chuckles. “Coulson does, but he’s been here for longer than any of us and he knows the Warehouse very well. Otherwise we usually go in pairs. Bobbi and Kara are usually partners - you might have seen Kara, she’s laid up right now with a broken ankle, but normally she’s the best of us with the history side of things - but Bobbi and I went on the mission where we got you because of Kara’s ankle, and Fitz is usually my partner but he doesn’t want to do field work even though I think he’d be just fine at it, but-”

“Why are you nervous?” Skye interrupts her, grinning.

Jemma’s so surprised all she can ask is “Hm?” 

“You’re rambling,” says Skye. “You do that when you’re nervous, I think. I’m the one who’s new here, but _ you’re _ rambling. That’s a little weird.”

Embarrassed, Jemma stammers for a minute before finally saying, “I...I just really want you to like it here, I suppose.”

Skye laughs. “Aw, that’s sweet. I think I will.”

Coulson, smiling, comes over to them. “You ready to enter a world of endless wonder?”

“I mean, sure, but you’re laying it on a little thick,” says Skye playfully. “It’s kinda cheesy, no offense.”

“None taken,” says Coulson, “but that’s how I was introduced to the Warehouse, so I feel it’s important to keep up the tradition. C’mon in. And watch your head, sometimes the electricity generated from having all these artifacts so close together causes discharges. They’re mostly harmless, and as long as you stay alert it shouldn’t be an issue.”

“That seems safe,” snarks Skye.

Coulson ignores her and, once they’re inside, gestures outward. “Here we are.”

Even Skye’s irreverence seems to fade when she looks at the sheer spectacle of the Warehouse. “Holy shit,” she says. “It’s so…”

“Isn’t it?” says Jemma, feeling oddly proud. 

Skye seems about to say something else, but then she pauses and sniffs the air. “Do you guys smell apples? That’s weird.”

“Don’t worry about it,” says Coulson with a smile. “C’mon, let’s try you out on the zip-line.”

“The  _ what _ ? Oh my god, best job ever!”

\---

Skye starts out just doing inventory and cataloguing, and most of the time she and Jemma end up working together. (Fitz finds this hilarious and badgers Jemma about it whenever Skye is out of earshot.) At first it’s a little awkward, and Jemma hates how nervous she feels around Skye, but they fall into a rhythm soon enough and begin chatting as they work.

“So how did you get into this?” Skye asks one day. “I mean, it doesn’t seem like the kind of thing you can just apply for.”

“Well, I was top of my class at university, and one of my professors suggested me for an internship. Ah, turns out he was a former Warehouse agent and the internship was really a position here.” Jemma smiles a little bashfully. “And then I just liked it so much I decided to stay.”

“Sweet deal,” says Skye. “And Fitz?”

“Oh, we were best friends in school. Or best enemies, sometimes, depending on whether we had science classes together. He’s always been more into the technical side of things, though. He had a similar internship offer - I suppose our school had a lot of former agents. Anyway, it seems to have worked out.”

“And how long have you guys been... _ together _ ? If it’s not too nosy to ask?”

“What? Oh, lord, no! Fitz and I, we’re too similar to ever date or anything like that,” scoffs Jemma. “We’d tear each other apart in a week, if not sooner. I love him, but it’s as a very dear friend. Besides,” she adds before she loses her nerve, “I mostly like girls and he mostly doesn’t like anybody.”

“That so?” Skye’s voice has a curious tone to it.

“Yes, I think asexual is the word for it. He’s not interested in anyone in that way, though if you ask me he’s got a bit of a crush on Trip. But he says he looked it up and it’s different to have a crush on someone and want to do, you know,  _ things _ with them, I haven’t really looked into it too much but I suppose-”

“You’re rambling again,” laughs Skye. “And it’s cute, but I meant you. You like girls, huh?”

Jemma feels herself blush. “Yes,” she says, a bit shyly. “That’s not a problem, is it?”

“Jesus, no! Actually…” Skye looks right into her eyes, swallows, and then says, “This is a little out of nowhere but is it cool if I kiss you?”

Yelping, Jemma manages to say, “Yes, um, yes, please, that sounds lovely, I-”

She’s interrupted by Skye’s lips on hers. 

When Skye pulls back she’s grinning. “I thought I was getting those signals right,” she teases, “but I wanted to check.”

“You were,” Jemma replies, giggling. “You definitely were.”

Skye’s about to say something else when the alarm overhead blares, and Jemma says, “Oh dear, that means there’s artifact activity.”

“I guess we’d better report to HQ then,” Skye says, grabbing Jemma’s hand. “Let’s go!”

**Author's Note:**

> Someday I might write stuff in this universe featuring Mack and Elena and Kara. Sorry, this was just already so long I couldn't figure out how to work them in more. (Melinda I semi-deliberately left out because I couldn't figure out how to work in a scene with her, but she is the Warehouse Caretaker a la Mrs. Frederic and she'll pop in sometime if I continue this verse.)


End file.
